So It Began To Rain
by FallenAngel
Summary: It wasn’t so much the length of the visit that alarmed him, or even that the fact that the man had visited at all but instead it was what happened after that had him scared.


Disclaimer: I don't own this show, never have, never will, if I did I wouldn't owe so much to the UofM, and I'd live on a yacht that traveled the world, and I would never eat noodles again! At least not the freeze-dried kind.

So It Began To Rain

"Go on little girl, feet twirl, go and make him smile

Go on like the rumbling drums of the march of time

And when the son meets the dad

It'll be pretty bad for the pain

But you'll always be the same

You will always be the same

You will always be the same"

- "You Will Always Be the Same", Ryan Adams

It wasn't so much the length of the visit that alarmed him, or even that the fact that the man had visited at all but instead it was what happened after that had him scared.

The man had knocked 15 minutes after two am. and he had arrived at the door clad in only the bottom half of his flannel pajamas, his eyes not yet open, only comprehending a persistent buzzing and the feeling that he must strangle who ever lay behind his front door. He wasn't visited often. Only his work and the parents of his daughter's friends had any idea of where he might be found and he liked it as such. He didn't have many friends, and even they knew little about where he crawled home every night. They knew about Erica, of course, and they knew where he worked, his taste in movies, music etc., but nothing about his home. He liked it that way, it kept things separate and civil, and therefore easy. So when the doorbell rang he had absolutely no idea what to expect, he had no friends that frequented bars only to present themselves on his doorstep immediatly after last call, and no outside family with which he might be caught with some disaster. It was just him and Erica, and well.. they were happy.

But wait he thought, his hand resting on the knob, Erica was not at home tonight. She was staying with a friend, just down the road, a small yellow house, the chimney always puffing smoke in winter, always warm and safe. He preferred her there, but if now he was to discover something had gone wrong, well, he suddenly dreaded the knocker.

The man wore a cheap suit which crinkled as he walked into the house, and seemed to shine under the pale light of the living room overhead. He continouly wiped his forehead, and appeared nervous, almost to the point of crying. He shook, and once even whimpered slightly. He seemed to be having trouble piecing his words together and the man slowed him, told him to calm down, and even broke out the kettle for tea.

He had sat on the daisy colored couch, wrung his hands, and shook his head and finally stared up at the man.

"I don't quite know what to tell you. But it's an honor to meet you, I've heard much about yourself and um... your younger years. I've wondered if you might be available for hire?"

The man stared at this stranger and suddenly laughed.

"You come to my house at two in the morning to offer me a job! I thought this was an emergency, something vital. But no, you just need me to fix something for you? Jeez, if it will get you out of my living room and me back into bed, I'll do anything!"

He could have hit this strange man then, but Alicia, his wife, had taught him better. Visitors deserved much more than a simple smack and bad tea, but instead some kind of hospitality and no matter what the man thought, or the hour, he would follow his wife's orders. He offered the man the back bedroom, not caring about the possible security risks this might present, only caring about his soft bed, his warm blankets, and the fact that this man might be dangerous, well that seemed extremely remote and well quite a stupid notion.

The situation or job had yet to be explained, and the possible position that his presence might fill well that was a mystery as well. But he was back in bed, and the nervous man was gone, and well... Erica was staying the night at a friends. He decided not to worry, nor even spare a thought to the odd little man till morning.

"Is this about my daughter?"

"Huh? Oh no, your daughter? Oh no sir. This has nothing to do with her."

"Then what the hell are you knocking on my door for? Did your car break down, is that it? Cause if it is, well you're SOL dude, I don't got a phone."

"No no, it has nothing to do with that. Can I come in? It's rather cold out here."

Which had brought the man into his house, to the proposition, and from there eventually into his guest bedroom, and then finally to his breakfast table. It had been stupid, lazy to not throughly question the man's intentions but the decision had already been made. And the next morning when he awoke, still alive, and with his possesions apparently all intact and acounted for, well he figured it all off to instincts and stepped into the shower.

The man was once again in his living room. He had his hands crossed, different suit but still cheap as all hell, his hair combed just so, and his nails pristine and white. Yet the feeling of flight lingered in the room, combining with the stranger's cheap cologne to give even the room a sense of deep desperation. Ahh the smell of failure in the morning.

He sat down.


End file.
